I groan and glance in the mirror to see if I'm as red as it feels like I am. Yep. I'm red. My dark brown hair actually looks darker next to the red.
I stare at the doorknob like it's the enemy. The shadow he casts tries to slip underneath the door. He's not going anywhere until I come out.
"You know it was bound to happen sooner or later. Would it make it easier if I stripped down and let you see me in my underwear?" he jokes.
Now I'm blushing for a whole new reason. It sure as hell wouldn't make this easier. He needs to go back to annoying the crap out of me. He's just confusing me with this... less shallow version of himself.
"Raya?" he asks, prompting me to break my silence.
"Do not strip," I grumble, making his laughter fall out louder once again.
"Come out. I grabbed some burgers. It'll be better than the tuna you insist on eating. The house will stink less, too."
Crap. My tuna is stinking up the house? Great.
Why is he buying me food? Gah, a burger sounds perfect. I'd love to eat anything that I didn't have to pull out of a can right now.
"Promise you won't laugh at me?"
He laughs. Of course he laughs. Jerk. But while he laughs, I find myself smiling. Stop smiling.
"I'm only laughing because I've been expecting it. You always ran around your house in your underwear. Not very smart for a girl trying to lay low."
I only thought I couldn't get any redder. I look like I've been cooking under the sun for ten days straight right now.
"Please tell me you're joking," I whine.
"You should have bought curtains or worn shorts if you didn't want anyone to notice."
"I never thought anyone was peering through my damn windows!"
He almost coughs from his even louder laughter.
"Seriously? Your room was almost directly across from mine, and your bed was pressed against the window. How was I supposed to never see you lounging around in your underwear? Don't make it a big deal."
Don't make it a big deal. Yeah right.
I tug at the shorts, making sure they are covering up everything he's already seen - numerous times apparently - and I use all my willpower to open the door to the smiling bastard propped against the frame.
"I hate you, you know."
He chuckles as he motions for me to join him. I'm relieved when he doesn't touch me, but then again, he hasn't touched me at all inside the house - only outside.
I follow him down the stairs, glaring at the back of his head as he continues to revel in my humiliation. "I'll grab some plates."
I just nod, refusing to meet his gaze, and I move to stand in front of the island bar while he moves to the other side. When a clear glass plate comes to rest beneath my eyes, I let out a snort of a laugh. Leave it to a rich kid to break out the real dishes for paper-plate food.
I frown. Or maybe leave it to me - the poor girl - to prefer paper plates.
"I thought you'd be at the club longer," I mumble by way of explaining.
"I don't ever stay long. It's business. Same for my parties. I hang out until the sobriety is gone, and then I head to my room for the rest of the night. Everyone got drunk earlier than usual tonight."
That brings my eyes up from the empty plate.
"Business?"
He offers a wry grin as he pulls out the paper bag and starts unwrapping the burgers that smell almost divine. Way better than canned tuna. It takes a lot more effort than I care to admit just to refrain from licking my lips and gapingly salivate.